Lorima
by melusine
Summary: [Secret of Mana] Long ago, the Mana Fortress took to air. Technology collapsed, magic dwindled, and the Mana Tree suffered. Two centuries after the rise of the Fortress, the people of Lorima are on the verge of war with the Empire.
1. Chapter One

**Lorima**  
by melusine

**Chapter One **

Aristide stood at the doorway to what had been his late wife's room. He had not wanted to open it again, but King Morgan had ordered him to make rooms available for the visiting Tasnican soldiers. The soldiers were due any day now, which necessitated that all guest rooms and unused or otherwise spare rooms be cleaned out and readied with fresh bedding. The maids had done the majority of the work, for which he was grateful, but they left that room untouched. They knew as well as anyone to ask his permission before doing anything that would involve Enid's belongings. Aristide felt as though he should clean out her room himself; it was his job anyway. Even as the mayor of the city of Lorima, which he realized held less status than a low-ranking duke, he had no illusions as to what should be the maids' work and what was rightfully his. The duty of stripping away all memory of his wife and her passing from her room was his and his alone.

His daughter, Evie, had offered her help in the same way that she always offered to help whenever the question of her mother's room came up. As always, he refused and watched how relief mixed with sadness in her eyes. Aristide doubted that it would be any easier for Evie; though she barely remembered her mother, Enid's presence clung as thickly to the room and what was within it as the dust that coated its furniture. And Evie had her place in there, too. No doubt she would remember how she would try on Enid's dresses and jewelry or how she would sit beside her mother on the bed and show her the drawings she had made and tell those strange stories that had delighted Enid, but troubled him. When he would ask her how she thought up those stories or who that strange man who stood beside her in some of her drawings was, she would tell him the same name: Justice.

The winter that Evie first spoke of Justice was a bad one. It began just after the leaves had changed colors and ended over a month after it should have. When Enid first took sick, he would take his daughter outside while the doctors attended to her mother. Aristide remembered breaking off frozen, ice-coated leaves from the trees and placing them in Evie's mittened hands and smiling at her delight at each fire-colored leaf. He also remembered helping her build a snowman and how she asked him to place two copper coins where its eyes would be. When he asked her why she wanted coins for the eyes instead of stones, she had laughed and told him that it wouldn't look like Justice without eyes that color. That was the first mention she had ever made of him and, at the time, he assumed that Justice was one of the children she played with. That assumption ended when he told Enid, who said that none of Evie's friends were named Justice and that she doubted than any of them had eyes like that. Enid suggested that Justice must be an imaginary playmate and that he shouldn't worry -- Evie was, after all, a young girl and children were given to such things -- though Aristide was uneasy.

His feelings of unease grew when he asked Evie to tell him more about Justice. She said that Justice came to her room every night to tell her stories and sing to her if she couldn't sleep. Testing Enid's suggestion, Aristide asked her if Justice was there at that very moment, to which Evie replied that it wasn't time yet and that he never came before the old tower clock struck one. She told him that he came in through the window and that, if it was bad out, she would keep the window open for him. It was then that Aristide was sure that his daughter's imaginary friend was no imaginary friend, but someone real; a thief who was perhaps a kidnapper or worse.

Aristide never told Enid about his suspicions, feeling that she had enough to worry about without fearing for her daughter's safety. Besides, she was likely right: five-year-olds tended to create strange and elaborate stories regarding their imaginary playmates. Still, he posted sentries outside Evie's door when he put her to bed. They were told to enter her room at the slightest sound and arrest the culprit. None of them, all honest men, reported any sound coming from her room during the entire week they were posted. Evie, however, said that that Justice still came to her ever night that week to tell her stories. She said that he whispered them into her ear. In time, Evie stopped talking about Justice. Aristide wondered, still hoping that Enid was right, if it was because she had stopped believing in his existance or, as was more likely, because she had realized that talking about him made her father nervous. But he didn't think about that at the time. Then, he thought about how he could raise his then six-year-old daughter alone and live without Enid.

Evie was fourteen now and the years that had passed between Enid's death and now were no easier for her than for him. He wondered if she remembered how hard he had fought to save her mother's life, even after Enid had slipped into an exhausted coma. He had even petitioned King Morgan for his aid. The king, known as the Warlock or Warlock king, was no mere warlock: he was a sorcerer whom Aristide was sure could heal anyone. However, the king's magic was all but useless. He could not heal Enid or bring her out of her coma; he only succeeded in giving her enough strength to sleep for two months longer. The king could not even succeed in saving his first child, who died three months before it was to be born, or his wife, Queen Amelia, when the stress of giving birth a second time proved too much for her heart.

It was all because of the Mana Fortress, a floating city ruled by Emperor Valerius. No one knew exactly when the Mana Fortress had rose into the sky, though the records that remained from the catastrophe suggested that it had been at least two hundred years. The Emperor himself, the son of Emperor Magnus and the descendant of Mana Emperor Nail, was less terrifying than the kings that dominated the Imperial cities on the ground. Though the Mana Fortress and any man of Nail's line were each capable of terrible things, the prospect of invasion and Lorima's slow death through war was considered worse in Aristide's mind than the possibility of annihilation by the mana cannons that studded the Fortress's sides. The people of the Imperial city of Vangold lived much closer to Lorima than the inhabitants of the Fortress. And the Vangold were liable to invade at any time.

Aristide sighed and shook his head. He needed to get the room cleared before tomorrow. King Morgan had promised him that only a general would sleep in Enid's old room and that he would be respectful of the place. He knew that this was an apology for the King's failure nearly nine years prior and accepted it graciously. When the soldiers left, he would put Enid's belongings back in the room. He considered asking Evie if she would like to have the room after the general left, though he doubted that she would accept it. The tower room below the clock had been hers since childhood. He wondered if Justice still told her stories.


	2. Chapter Two

**Lorima**  
by melusine

**Chapter Two**

"There was once a poor man who lived in a cottage by the woods with his three daughters. Each girl was as fair as any princess, but none were wed for their father could afford no dowry. But, they were good girls who loved their father and so they held no resentment towards him for either their poverty or their prospects.

"One day, the man received a letter from the king of a northern land asking him for his aid. The king was sick and close to dying, and only the poor man could save him. The poor man doubted this before he remembered the potion that his grandmother had inherited from her grandmother and passed on to him when she died. It was said to cure any ill, whether it be from age, wound, or sickness.

"The poor man told his three daughts that he must leave at once to the northern kingdom and asked each girl what he should bring back to them as a gift. The oldest daughter asked for a necklace of pearls the color of the moon. The middle daughter asked for a dress the color of the sun. And the youngest daughter, who wanted riches and pretty dresses but knew her place as the youngest, asked only for a single flower from the king's garden. The poor man kissed each one on the cheek and promised them the gifts that they desired.

"When the poor man returned months later, he came on a magnificent cart and wore rich clothes. On the cart, he carried two chests. He gave the first chest to his eldest daughter, who found it to be filled with necklaces that would ransom princes. When the middle daughter was given the second chest, she found it fill ed with beautiful dresses of every color. And to the youngest, whose eyes stung with tears at the sight of her sisters' gifts, he gave a single pale flower.

"The man, now no longer poor but prosperous, received a second letter in a year's time. In it, the king expressed his gratitude for the potion that saved his life and said that he knew that the man had three unwed daughters. He stated that he would offer them whatever husband they desired. The daughters wept with joy at the news and, by hte day's end, told their father who they would want to marry. The oldest daughter wanted to marry a brave prince with a soft voice and kind eyes. The middle daughter wanted to marry a just duke with dark hair and a sharp mind. The youngest daughter, who knew that she should not make too great of request, simply said that she would like to marry whomever the king thought right for her.

"When the king wrote to the man and his daughters a month later, he told them that the eldest daughter was not betrothed to a prince of an easter land and that the middle daughter was to be wed to a western duke. The youngest daughter, he wrote, was to be his wife and queen of the north. The letter ended with the statement that the men would arrive in two days' time to retrieve their brides.

"When the prince arrived, the eldest sister saw that he walked with the sure strides of a brave man and looked upon her with kindness and adoration. When he spoke, asking her to wed him the following morning, his voice was soft. The eldest sister said yes.

"When the duke arrived, the middle sister saw that his hair was darker than the spaces between the stars and the moon. When he spoke to her, asking her to be his bride, she saw the intelligence in his eyes and heard the fairness in his words. She said yes.

"When the king arrived, the youngest sister was sure that he would be more glorious than either of her sisters' suitors. And indeed his coach was and his rainments were, but the king himself was a strange creature with eyes like globes and leathery skin the color of spoiled meat. When he spoke to her and asked her to be his treasured queen, his voice sounded like the noise made by rusted hinges. And when he smiled, each tooth was like an ivory needle. The youngest sister was repulsed by this beastly suitor, but she did not show it. Instead, she allowed him to kiss her hand and, when he asked again, she said yes.

"The middle sister and her duke wed first and their wedding was a grand one. She wore the sun-colored dress and he his finest garments and no one could argue that they were not perfect for one another. The eldest sister and her prince wed second and their wedding was grander still. She wore the necklace of moon-colored pearls and her dress, given to her by her prince, was no less radiant than the pearls and no less fine than the clothing he wore. When he kissed her, no one could argue that they would not live in bliss together. The youngest sister and the strange king were wed last, but their wedding was the finest yet. She cried beneath her veil and sobbed when he kissed her, but all who saw them thought that they were perfectly suited for one another. The single pale flower, which had not faded, was twined in her hair.

"After the weddings, each daughter kissed her father on the cheek before leaving with her husband. The eldest daughter, now a princess, and her husband left eastward. The middle daughter, now a duchess, and her husband left westward. And the youngest daughter, now a queen, and her husband went northward to his kingdom.

"When the queen arrived at her castle, she was sure that the tales of her childhood would not fail her. In those tales, the beast king was always cursed into a horrible form by a jealous witch. And, in those tales, the spell was broken when the king was kissed without revulsion by his wedded wife.

"The queen endured that night without complaint, even though she wished to be sick whenever he touched her. The tales required the wife of the beast king to do such things and she was sure that she would be rewarded for playing her part. She resolved to pretend that he was something other than a beast king. She would look at him and imagine a handsome, glorious king in his place. In time, she fell in love with that imagined king. In time, she realized that she had stopped looking upon the king and imagining a fine one; the sight of the beast king no longer filled her with disgust. She loved his kindness and gentleness and ignored his globelike, staring eyes and his ivory needle teeth. She loved his squeaking voice that told her beautiful things and even the spoiled-meat color of his skin was not awful to her. It no longer mattered that there was not a curse to free her husband from.

"They lived happily in the northern kingdom, where she bore him three sons, each one stranger than the last and each one loved equally. It is said that, like the pale flower, they never faded and live in joy to this very day."

"Is that story true, Justice?"

"Shhh, Evie. Go to sleep."


	3. Chapter Three

**Lorima**  
by melusine

**Chapter Three**

Evie pushed at her food with her fork. The soldiers had arrived just a little after midday and immediately turned the quiet house into a bustling and noisy place. The cook, long unused to cooking for more than just a few people -- her mother, Enid, had been the one who was fond of parties -- complained at first, but cooked an extravagant meal for her employer and his many guests. The soldiers were talkative and fond of drinking, which made their chatter louder and more rambling. When it came time for dinner, they pushed and shoved for a seat next to her. Her father promised her that their general would return from the castle soon and restore order.

Across from her, one of the soldiers was looking at her strangely. Evie looked down at her plate, avoiding his eyes. The soldier cleared his throat and Evie looked up. "Don't you know who I am?" he asked, his amused voice tinged with hurt. She shook her head no, trying to connect the soldier's angular face and lanky frame with someone she recognized. "Omri, remember? My parents and I moved to Tasnica when I was ten and you were nine. Remember? We used to play together."

"Omri!" Evie exclaimed, smiling at the sight of her old friend. "You've changed a lot," she added with a quiet giggle. "Last time I saw you you were so young! Where did that little, round-faced boy go?"

"I hope I changed for the better," Omri said, enjoying the attention. "You haven't changed a bit. You're just as pretty now as you were then."

"Thank you," Evie replied. She laughed, unsure of what to say next.

"I remember back when we first met. Do you remember that day?" Omri took a drink from his mug of beer

"Yeah." Evie nodded. "You were trying to get a rabite to jump through a hoop, but it bit you and ran off. You cried and cried. . ."

"Then you told me a story until the pain went away. It was just a tiny bite. It didn't even break the skin," he finished. "You told me that that imaginary friend of yours told it to you. He was named. . .I can't remember the name. It was something strange. Anyway, you told me that he told you that story so that you wouldn't be scared anymore so you told it to me when I got hurt. We all had imaginary friends back then. I think mine was named Captain Horace the Bold or something like that. He rode a heckhound and had a mace made out of skulls that he used to kill monsters." Omri laughed and shook his head. "It really is weird the kind of things you make up when you're a kid. I haven't thought about old Captain Horace in years."

"Justice," Evie murmured.

"What?" He looked at her quizzically, his eyes slightly unfocused from the alcohol.

"His name is Justice," Evie said, then paused and quickly corrected herself. She did not see her father, Aristide, grip the neck of his wineglass. It had been years since Evie had last spoken that name in front of him. "His name was Justice. He was the one who used to tell me stories."

"That's the name. Justice." Omri tapped the table with his palm as he said it. "That's the name. Evie?"

"Yeah?" Evie tilted her head slightly.

"I used to have the biggest crush on you as a kid," Omri mumbled, his grin sheepish. "When the general -- General, um, Julian -- said we were going to Lorima, I was really excited. I wanted to see you again. I kept meaning to write, but I didn't know what to say."

"Oh, Omri. . ." she began, fumbling for words. "I. . ."

"You're losing her, Om," one of the other soldiers muttered, elbowing him in the ribs. "Just ask her already."

"Um, the Warlock -- I mean, King Morgan -- is throwing a fancy ball in two days for the soldiers and the nobles, too, I guess."

Evie squirmed in her seat. She knew what was coming next. She could read it in his face and in his voice. Her heart beat fast in her chest, yet she felt guilty and embarassed. She didn't want to say yes, but she didn't want to say no either. "I'll be there. Father is one of the city officials and His Majesty's friend. So, I'll be there."

"You will?" Omri brightened. "Good," he said and looked away, then back at Evie. "Good! I'll be there, too."

Evie nodded and put down her fork. She had barely eaten a thing. Her stomach churned. Ever since her father had told her about the ball earlier that day, she flet both nervous and giddy. He had told her to bring someone with her and the only person she could think of asking was someone whom her father could not know existed. She knew that if he knew that Justice was real, he would only start asking questions about who he was and how old he was when they met and why he looked the age he did and why he never aged for as long as she could remember. She did not want her father to ask those questions because she did not know the answers and the less she thought about them, the better she felt. She could not deny that there was something strange about Justice, but it didn't seem to matter to her when he was around.

". . .And after this is all over, I'm going to open up a store. A general store, where people can buy food and clothes and things like that. I like being a soldier because I've made some great friends, but the fighting. . . you can't get used to that. We've just been training now, but there are older soldiers around and they tell us exactly what it's like. One of the guys -- his name's Lieutenant Uisdean -- he looks bad. Really bad. An Imperial soldier got one of his eyes and half his face. He told us some horrible things. I'm scared, Evie. I don't want to do this."

"I'm sorry, Omri," Evie murmured. She reached across the table to him and he squeezed her hand. "I wish I knew what to say. I wish you didn't have to do this. I wish Father didn't have to do this."

"That's right, your dad's the commander of the second Loriman regiment." Omri frowned. "I'll watch out for him," he said and laughed unsteadily. "I'll make sure he comes back."

"You come back, too," she whispered. "It's been nice seeing you again. I missed you."

"I missed you, too," he answered. Omri tapped the table with his fingers. "I never thought I'd be back in Lorima so soon."

"You're an ass, you know?" the soldier beside Omri who had elbowed him before said, then clapped him on the back and laughed. "First you talk to the girl, then you ask her about the dance, then you tell her about Lieutenant Uisdean's ugly face. No one wants to hear about his ugly face, especially at dinner. Even he doesn't want to talk about that face of his at dinner. You really suck."

"Shut up, Velibor," Omri laughed. "Evie, this is Velibor. He's my best friend."

"I see," Evie giggled.

"I met him soon after we started basic training," Omri continued. "He's really funny."

"You make it sound like we're dating," Velibor grumbled. "What are you going to tell her next? That we're going ring shopping tomorrow or something?" He looked over at the nearby soldiers. "Not a word. It's a secret until Ma and Pa find out!"

"Wouldn't think of it, miss," one of them said with a smirk.

"Make sure he gets you something pretty," another added.

"You know I wouldn't settle for anything better than a diamond the size of a baby rabite's head from my sweet little Ommy-dear," Velibor simpered, then grabbed Omri in a headlock and ground his knuckles into his friend's scalp. "I ain't one of those cheap girls."

"Only the best for my baby!" Omri croaked as he tried to extricate himself from the headlock turned chokehold.

"He knows I like big rocks," Velibor crooned to Evie, who smiled and giggled. Omri snorted with laughter, then shoved his friend out his seat. The other soldiers at the table laughed, then toasted the "happy couple."

"General Julian will be here tonight," Aristide whispered to the worried-looking maid who was standing nearby.

"It sounds like you think that he'll be better behaved than them, sir," the maid, an elderly woman named Vida, chuckled. "Look at how young they are. They're practically babies. Word around the town is that the general is twenty at most. Achala claims that he knows her cousin."

"I see." Aristide took a sip of wine. The war with the Mana Empire had been going on nearly continuously for at least two centuries. Soldiers rarely lived long enough to die of old age. Smiling sadly, he watched Evie talk with the soldiers. "They'll do well," he said, half to himself and half to Vida. "I'm sure of it."


End file.
